


Don't Even Think About It

by masquev2



Series: The Don't Series [8]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: AvaLance, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 23:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masquev2/pseuds/masquev2
Summary: Did things go a little differently during the Yule Tide celebrations in New Valhalla? Or not?





	Don't Even Think About It

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing something like this. Well first time writing something like this and then actually posting it.

It was somewhere around _‘four out of seven’_ that the Viking warriors sitting across from them passed out cold. The smaller one of the two had slipped completely off of the bench and lay sprawled across the floor and the larger one slumped over and landed face first in a plate of venison. Sara shook her head in disbelief, she really had expected more from the fierce Norsemen.

To her left an unexpectedly girly giggle erupted from her partner in crime. Sara turned to Ava; the other woman was clearly on the far side of tipsy if the warmth in her cheeks was any indication. Sara wrapped an arm around Ava’s bicep and hoisted her from the bench, leading her outside to take in some air, thankfully Ava came willingly because the last thing Sara needed was the Time Bureau coming down on her for getting one of their agents drunk on a mission.

Once they hit the night Ava seemed to visibly sober, drawing in deep breaths of cool air and standing taller. “Whoa. It was getting hot in there.”

“No, you were getting drunk in there.” Sara wandered away from the Time Agent, conscious of the fact that since the _‘I’m not really the husband kind’_ comment had been made Sara had noticed an increase in the tightening sensation low in her belly. She covered her retreat by stretching her hands out before her, pretending to warm them by the fire.

Ava scoffed at the notion, obviously insulted by the belief that she was some kind of lightweight, “I can hold my alcohol, but that… that…”

“Mead,” Sara helpfully supplied, not sure if it was inebriation or lack of familiarity that had the other woman struggling for the name.

“… stuff, is super sweet and really sticky.” She brought her fingers to her mouth and licked the tips of the index and middle fingers of her left hand, once the taste was on her tongue she seemed to be contemplating it, “It kind of tastes like…” Her eyes went comically wide and Sara realised that Ava had arrived at a comparative taste, and it was probably the same one Sara had been thinking of.

“It kinda does, doesn’t it?” They caught each other’s eyes, and the tightening sensation in Sara’s belly cranked up another notch.

…

Sara allowed the flap of another tent to fall closed on another dead end. She and Ava had taken to wandering around the camp in search of Beebo, the Vikings so called ‘Blue God’. One of them would discreetly slip inside a tent or house while the other would keep watch to make sure they weren’t discovered. So far they had managed to search inside three tents and two houses and turned up nothing, Sara just hoped the others were having better luck with their own avenues of investigation.

“You find anything in there?” Sara stage whispered to the partially open doorway behind her, Ava seemed to be taking an age inside this house and Sara was concerned that her continued loitering would start to attract unwanted attention.

“Just a fire hazard waiting to happen. I can’t believe anyone would leave this many open flames unattended in a wooden structure, not to mention how flammable these furs…”

“Any sign of Beebo?” Rolling her eyes Sara decided it was best to cut Ava off mid tirade before she got onto the possible hygiene issues of living so close with the livestock or the lack of privacy where so many would sleep together.

When Ava answered her voice was getting closer to the doorway, “No. No sign of the Blue God, we should…” but Sara could also hear other voices getting closer, the guards she had seen patrolling the camp throughout the evening.

Thinking quickly she turned and pushed Ava back into the house, following after and pressing the other woman up against the wall to the side of the doorway and out of sight. She placed a finger against the other woman’s lips when it looked as though Ava would protest the manhandling or question the situation. When the voices drew near Ava nodded her understanding of their current predicament.

Of course the sentries decided to stop and converse right outside their hiding place. Both Sara and Ava held their breath, but nothing could stop how fast their hearts were pounding, in sync and next to one another’s. And that just brought Sara’s attention to how close they were, how intimately they were touching and how very much Sara liked it.

The guards continued on their patrol, voices fading as the moved further away.

Both women were able to breathe again, but neither heartbeat seemed to be slowing. Sara still had her finger pressed to Ava’s lips; she could feel every ragged breath that Ava took as she traced her fingertip over the perfect Cupid’s Bow of her upper lip and then drew it across her fullness of her lower one before finally realising what she was doing and what she wanted to be doing. Her eyes snapped up to meet Ava’s.

“You wish,” Ava’s voice was low and filled with self-satisfied amusement at discovering the delicious secret that Sara had tried and failed to keep hidden.

Sara’s eyes betrayed her as they fell back to Ava’s mouth, she licked suddenly dry lips.

“You do wish, don’t you?” This time Ava didn’t sound teasing, she sounded curious.

Swallowing her uncharacteristic nerves and summoning all of her bravado she tilted her head to the side, “Are you telling me you haven’t thought about it?” Sara couldn’t be the only one feeling this. Everything they did they did with passion, when they argued, when they fought, there was no way there could not be passion for other things too.

Ava dragged her lower lip between her teeth, “Oh, I’ve thought about it.”

“But?” Sara urged, hoping that she wasn’t about to get a lecture on Time Bureau rules and regulations about fraternising with other agents and already preparing her _‘not an agent’_ defence.

“But when I think about it,” Ava began and within seconds their positions were reversed as the other woman spun them and Sara found herself slammed against the wall, her hands pinned above her head and Ava’s mouth so tantalisingly close she felt every word against her lips, “I’m the one in charge.”

And finally, finally Ava was kissing her and it was incredible; aggressive and hungry, hot and urgent, and passionate, so very, very passionate.

…

She had absolutely no idea how she had ended up completely naked beneath Ava Sharpe, no idea how they had conquered all the buckles and defeated laces and vanquished boots, but all that remained of her Viking disguise were the feathers braided into her hair.

She traced random patterns onto the thighs that bracketed her hips as Ava knelt over her. She watched in fascination as the flames from the candles and torches made lights dance across Ava’s torso as she removed the last of her own clothes and tossed them aside.

Long tapered fingers reached for Sara, making her stomach muscles tremble beneath the teasing touch that inched upwards. Ava leaned down and joined their mouths in a searing kiss as her wandering hands found Sara’s breasts. Sara moaned, she actually moaned, it was the only encouragement she could give as words had failed her.

Sara welcomed the warm weight of Ava’s body pressing down on her, long legs tangling with her own,  soft skin and smooth muscle, surrounding her, overwhelming her, it was simultaneously too much and not enough. One of the hands exploring her body reached down behind her thigh, raising it up to hook over Ava’s hip to give her greater access to Sara’s willing body. Ava dragged her fingers between Sara’s legs, moans escaping both of them at what they found there, just how much Sara had been wishing for this.

Breaking the kiss, desperate for air, Sara gasped for breath as Ava trailed wet fingers up her torso, “I bet you taste better than the mead we’ve been drinking all night.” Slipping fingers inside her mouth Ava hummed her approval of the taste and began placing open mouthed kisses down Sara’s throat, across her chest, moving further and further down Sara’s body.

She finally settled between Sara’s thighs, the leg that had been over her hip was now over her shoulder and Ava turned her face to bite the tendon between the thigh and groin. The sound that erupted from Sara’s lips was somewhere between a groan and a scream and something that resembled Ava’s name.

The name continued to fall from Sara’s lips: sighed, screamed, gasped, cried as Ava used her mouth to grant Sara’s wish. “Ava, oh god, ava…AVA!”

…

“AVA!” Sara screamed as she woke up, sitting up in her bed on board the Waverider, ripped from the dream and chasing the phantom touch of her lover.

The lights in her quarters suddenly came on full and Sara had to shield her eyes from the pain.

“Captain Lance, your heart rate and respiration have reached dangerously high levels. You were calling out for Agent Sharpe. I can contact her immediately, perhaps she could assist you with your…”

“Don’t even think about it Gideon!” Sara flopped back down on her empty bed and slung an arm over her eyes, “And shut off the damn lights.”

“As **_you wish_** Captain.” The quarters were once again plunged into darkness.

~


End file.
